


flower girl.

by cheinsaw



Series: dreamscapes [2]
Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Family Issues, Gen, Pre-Canon, cloud dad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 11:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3207650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheinsaw/pseuds/cheinsaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ichirin, before she was a youkai.</p>
            </blockquote>





	flower girl.

home is red. home is sharp. home is too bright and scary with too many noises and too much pain.

you decide early on you don't like home. home should be a place you feel comfortable and loved, not what your house, your family is. so when you are just old enough to be allowed to wander on your own, you find a new home. it is under the cover of trees, soft and cool on your skin, grass whispering against your feet. ferns and moss grow in abundance, and when you touch them you've never felt so alive.

it is nice.

finally, you have something you can call that.

 

but you always have to go back to your family at the end of the day. and it is cold and sad.

 

before the sky pales with the first purple hints of dawn, you slip away, tiny patters of your barefoot steps on the floor, the darkness enveloping you. it is right. it is _right_.

even in the dim light you find your way to your tree shelter easily, climbing up its comforting branches as faint sunlight catches your dress and your hair. from twenty feet up you watch the sun rise. from twenty feet up you decide you are a child of nature, meant to live as one with the landscape. you are never going back to that house. you smile wide, pushing your tongue against the gap where you've lost a tooth. you're going to be a flower girl.

 

your older brother finds you at noon, sprawled asleep under the high sun. _get up_ , he says, _what do you think you're doing out here. everybody's looking for you._

you squint at his face. it's hard to make out his features, since the sun is right behind his head. _i don't want to go home_ , you say.

 _i'm bringing you home whether you like it or not._ he slides his arms under yours and drags you up. you kick at him, and try to bite him, but he's older and taller and stronger. he carries you, thrashing, back home.

you are not allowed to leave the house after that.

you plead, of course. you cry and beg and scream. but your attempt to run away isn't taken lightly, and your family isn't happy. for the first day you aren't allowed so much as to look out a window. after a little while, they stop paying such close attention to you. but you'd bet they'd be at your heels in a flash if you ran away again.

the summer rains come, and you sit on the porch with the door open, warm droplets of water splashing against your legs. the air is sticky and sweet-smelling. it feels so new and clean. you wish you were enveloped in it, wish you could lie on the ground and be taken into the earth.

 

it's not proper for a lady to do such things, your mother says when she finds you with your feet in an inch-deep puddle, your clothes soaked with rain.

 

the next morning you tie your hair up in a cloth like the women do. you'll be a lady for now. if that's what it takes.

 

you're thirteen and you have learned not to speak unless spoken to, have learned to make your presence as small as possible, have learned to suppress the wildness inside you that wants to run and play and yell and laugh.

you ache.

 _i want to collect flowers_ , you say one day, very soft, very quiet. _a centerpiece for our table. i promise i will come back._

everyone looks at you, side-eyed, doubt creasing their foreheads. but you've been their idea of good for five years, and you can see the thought passing their minds, _maybe i should let her go, just this once._

_very well._

_thank you_ , you say, and bow, and tiptoe away.

 

the sun is familiar and soothing against your skin, the blue of the sky more home than any of your blood relatives. the flowers turn up to face you, the grass seems to grow brighter when you approach, welcoming you home. you can't stop the grin from spreading across your face as you untie your headscarf and use it to gather your bundle of flowers. red, white, pink, yellow, delicate little petals. blue hydrangeas. tiny violets and buttercups. you can't imagine anything better.

you're almost done, a collection of every beautiful color you've ever seen in your arms, when an old man approaches you. he's come out of nowhere, head down in prayer. _hello?_ you ask, tilting your head. _are you lost? i'm sorry, i don't have anything to give you... would you like some flowers?_

he says nothing. or, at least, nothing you can hear. you watch his mouth move, mumbling softly. you look at him, still. and you draw in a breath as you realize he

is not

human.

 

 _the foreseeing nyuudo was foreseen_ , you shout, backing up. your eyes sting - what if it's not enough? what if you die here right now and your family goes on thinking you never learned anything, and then they send your brother out to find you and he'll see your body and -  
the nyuudo seems to jolt, its body diffusing into puffs of pink smoke. one curls near your shoulder. _interesting_ , it says, in a voice like summer. _interesting_.

 

his name is unzan.

he swears he'll protect you.

you lean into him, letting his cloud form swirl around you. it's so light, so warm. you cradle your flowers close as he soars into the sky, the wind blowing through your hair, the sun shining bright. _i'm ichirin_ , you whisper into him, and you know he hears. you just _know_.

this is home.

 

 _what is that?_ your mother asks when you get home.

 _a nyuudo_ , you say. _he flew me home. it was nice. he said he'll protect me._ you place the flowers on the table.

_a nyuudo - you could've been killed! it'll kill us -_

_mother, no, i promise, he's not like that -_

_you can't bring a youkai into this house_ , she says. _get rid of it._

you take in a deep breath, and unzan curls around you, over your waist and shoulders and back like a cape. _no_ , you say. _no. he's my friend._

she grits her teeth. it is too bright and sharp and red.

 

that night your father drags you up north, where the buddhists live. the woman at the temple is so calm as she says _youkai extermination, purification_ , words that are harsh on your ears. _i'll take care of it_ , she says. _i'll take care of you_.

unzan curls tighter around you. he hasn't left his place around your shoulders all day. _it's okay_ , you want to tell him, _we'll be okay_ , but you can't find the words, and you don't know if it's true.

 _a human girl with no fear for youkai,_ she continues, studying you. _and a nyuudo. i've never seen a pair quite like this before_. she nods a little to your father. _leave this to me._

 

 _your name?_ she asks when you're alone.

you sulk, you glare, you press your lips tight. you won't talk. not to this woman.

she blinks slowly. _i'm not here to hurt you. i only want your name._ she pauses. _mine is byakuren._

 _youkai extermination_ , you remember her saying. you clutch at your skirts. _no._

_what's your nyuudo's name?_

he coalesces around your shoulders. _she's telling the truth_ , he says in a breath, so quiet only you can hear. _she does not want to hurt you. if she did i would protect you with my life._

 _unzan,_ you say, shaky. _his name is unzan._

 _unzan_ , byakuren repeats.

_i'm ichirin._

_ichirin and unzan. you're quite the team, aren't you..._ she brings a hand up to her mouth, thinking. _let me show you something._

the buddhist temple is quiet, but far from empty. it's filled, absolutely packed, with every kind of youkai imaginable. the moment you walk through the door a small mouse-girl greets byakuren. _hijiri, we need more raw meat_ , she says.

 _thank you, nazrin. i'll see to that._ she turns to you. _well?_

unzan whispers to you more. he's unsure about the temple, but byakuren is still telling the truth, he says. _this might be the safest place we can find for now._

 _what is this?_ you ask byakuren instead of voicing his opinion.

 _a buddhist temple._ she brings her hand to her mouth again, the joints of her fingers brushing her lips. _do you think me the kind to willingly kill any living creature? human or youkai? that's not the way of buddhism. life is something to be respected..._

you nod. the temple is not too bright, and it's soft and warm. and unzan is there. unzan will keep you safe even if it does get bright and red and sharp. and, you think, it could be somewhere like a home.

 _i'll stay_ , you say, sudden and a bit too loud, but no one minds. byakuren's face lights up.

 _i'm glad to have you_ , she says.

 

when you go out at dawn once more, the temple is surrounded by morning dew, the buds of the flowers just opening to face the day. foxglove, daffodil, lily. little wild daisies and bluebells rubbing against your ankles. _look, unzan,_ you say.

_hmm?_

you smile, pressing your cheek against where he floats around you. _look at all the flowers._ you pick one of the daisies and gently place it against him. _see? we're home._

he rumbles softly. _so we are._


End file.
